Akinbode Israel writes

A WIDOW BY THE WINDOW. 

. 

A widow by the window, 

Peeking over a large street;

Children playing under the sun, 

Sweating away their Today. 

. 

She looked the more and saw

Little girls rubbing white beards,

Flaunting their games on beds,

Soaking their Tomorrow in petrol. 

. 

She looked again and saw

Men punctured to boys, 

Playing football with shoes, 

Shoes of responsibility. 

. 

She looked through the window;

Nothingness sat, 

Emptiness posed, 

A sleeping portrait.

. 

Widow by the window;

Angels by the rainbow

Reporting to God, 

Then I saw God cry. 

 

Grief (Widow at the window) -- Felix Nussbaum